<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>No Frills by libre_skyes (orphan_account)</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24755131">No Frills</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/libre_skyes'>libre_skyes (orphan_account)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Gen, Mention of Zari 2.0 / John, Serious but fluffy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 05:48:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>978</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24755131</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/libre_skyes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Zari Tomaz hangs out with Behrad and the other Zari and settles into having successfully altered her own timeline.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>John Constantine/Zari Tomaz | Zari Tarazi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>No Frills</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Zari Tomaz's life has, for a very long time, been driven by utility, expediency, no frills. Everything else was stripped away from her when her family was killed. Her talents as a hacker were honed by grim necessity, her best means of evading capture. Her every move, thought, and decision were distilled and essentialized; a calculated conservation of energy driven by the sort of scrappy, indomitable guerilla spirit that one needs in order to fight a losing war, with completely unfair odds and severe losses, against an oppressive government. Her favored garments -- flannels, jeans, heavy scuffed boots -- are utilitarian, durable, easy to come by, and what she feels most at home in. When she sees her other self, Zari from another timeline, the one where her family is alive, she’s not sure how to react. The alterna-her is a fashionista rather than a revolutionary, fabulously girly and image obsessed, like a showy bird with flashy plumage and shoes that are decidedly not for running or stealth. She catches herself scoffing, mildly dubious, and then wondering: Was there, at the core of her own being, a similar frivolity? How much is nature, and how much is nurture?</p><p>Behrad is still her brother, just all grown up, but he too has a lightness to him that comes from never knowing the kind of wartime that was her life. He's a goof, and she loves it. She loves that he's alive. Even though she's not "his" Zari, they get along just fine, playing video games together and sharing snacks. Her heart feels full. She finally saved her little brother. Plus, one of her favorite things about the Waverider is the constant supply of snacks, so relieving for someone who's been on cardboard-like rations and dealing with food scarcity on the run for so long. It's like a reflex to eat the good stuff while it's in front of her, just in case, and she feels like she’ll never get enough of it. Donuts and cheese puffs galore! Little pizza bites!</p><p>As for her other self, Zari Tarazi, she has come to think of her as a twin sister with slightly questionable taste. First, there’s the poofy sleeves and girly girl stuff, which she’ll admit is kind of stylish but diametrically opposed to her own style. Even the way Z (as in Z Nation, her other-self’s social media empire, or her fans?) speaks is modulated differently. It’s dramatic and playful rather than terse. Second, she's 100% sure that she and Behrad heard Z making out with John Constantine, which is entirely weird. Sure, John can be charming in a disheveled, rakish way. He’s also drowning in booze, a bit of a con job (Mick doesn’t call him weasel for no reason), and comes with literal demons in his past, present, and future. Zari relates to him as someone she needs to work with, and around, as needed. She much prefers the straightforward quality that Nate exudes, maybe because she’s that way as well, or perhaps she’s just been through enough darkness on her own already.</p><p>Zari and Behrad are in the game room when Z joins them. All three of them chill sometimes; the pattern is that Zari and Behrad play old video games and yell at each other while Z breezes in and out or checks her messages, then they all eat together and chat. The first time they all hung out together, Zari was hesitant, not wanting to intrude -- after all Z and Behrad have a sibling bond that’s from the same timeline and she could be construed as the interloper here, but they’re so consistently generous and welcoming that soon it feels like she has two siblings instead of just one.</p><p>Behrad is Behrad. What you see is what you get. Stoner, goofball, total puppy dog. Z seems catty sometimes, but is actually quite sweet. Zari feels a bit relieved to learn that Z’s not an airhead or actually shallow, just a bit too beholden to her social media platforms. When she tells Z this, Z laughs and says with a moue that they’ll have to talk more later about the burden of fame, but she says it in a cheeky, self-deprecating way. At the moment, Z is flitting about her, expertly applying pigments with soft brushes to her cheeks and eyelids. The way she smiles as she sends Zari off is adorable and sincere. It feels like a gift.</p><p>Zari arrives at the shuttle. She feels slightly awkward in this outfit -- it’s trendy, slightly loud for her, but still tasteful, and has actual frills attached -- but is determined to pull it off with aplomb. She wonders if she could feel any less like her former terrorist self as she catches a glimpse of herself on a shiny surface of the ship. Behrad accompanies her. “You ready?” he asks. “Yes,” she says with more assurance than she feels. When they arrive, she steps out in Z’s heels, and feels a slight wobble as she sees her childhood home still standing in its boring, safe, middle-class neighborhood, untouched. She knocks hesitantly, hardly able to breathe, and time seems to hang for a moment as the door opens, revealing Maman. Zari flies forward, crushing her mother with a hug. “Zari,” Maman says warmly and pauses, “is something the matter?”</p><p>Behrad says something silly and distracts Maman with a hug of his own, buying Zari enough time to angle away and blink back tears. “No, I’m fine, everything’s fine,” Zari says through a blinding grin, “It’s just so good to see you.” “Uh, she’s got allergies,” Behrad offers helpfully as they step through the doorway for a short visit, into this place that has escaped violence, persecution, and unjust oppression, a home where Maman and Papa are living and troubled only by the mundanities of worrying about their children and growing older.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>